The Parting of the Veil
by weaselqueen00
Summary: Lacey is a foreign exchange student at Hogwarts. She befriends the infamous trio, falls for the ever smirking Draco Malfoy, and finds herself dragged into the biggest adventure of her life. Love, lust, anger, bravery, and a little teenage angst ensue.
1. The Same As Usual, Except Not

**The Parting of the Veil **by weaselqueen00 aka Lesley

**Rated: **PG-13/R

**Disclaimer:** Draco, Ron, Harry, and company are mine! ALL MINE! MWAHAHAHA! is pulled off to the side by scary looking legal people Oh, all right. I was just kidding. Really. sighs All characters, places etc. belong to J.K. Rowling and her possy. I intend no harm in writing this fan fiction. Well… possible harm will be done to Draco Malfoy, but it's really out of my control. I mean… he's just so sexy.

**Pairings: **Draco/OC (Lacey), Ron/Hermione, Harry/OC (Lacey) Harry/Girl!Blaise, implications of former relationships between Ginny/Harry, Draco/Pansy very complicated, I know

**Spoliers: **Books 1-5 (SS/PS – OotP), majority written before HBP

**Summary: **Here's a story of magic and mayhem galore/ Brave Harry Potter, evil Voldemort, and more/ A pretty exchange student, a black veil too/ Werewolves, a death, a million boo hoos/ Padfoot is dead, so most people say/ Well those in denial, those who pray, Harry's on your side, hip hip hooray/ Dreams of curtains, barking, some green light/ Kidnapping, snogging, Quidditch, and fights/ Hermione and a Weasley? The Yule Ball gone awry/ Potions, Dumbledore's Army, dementors, oh my/ Chaos, disorder, hearts will break and rot/ Draco Malfoy forever bad? Nah, just hot/ Things are not what people seem to see/ A traitor amongst friends? Could it be/ Cupid's arrow strikes a Slytherin unwary/ Enemies become friends, ooh! How scary/ Can someone so good love someone so bad/ When a person gets angry will they stay mad/ Telekinesis, drunken nights, a door/ Want to know what happens? You'll have to read more/ I've tried my best, please if you're kind, read my tale/ And now, without further ado, I present The Parting of the Veil!

**Author's Note: **Is this a Mary Sue? Probably. But I only did it because people wanted me to! I had originally intended this to be a Ginny/Draco fic, but I started getting requests and ideas from friends. Someone wanted Ron and Hermione to get together, another person wanted a good Girl!Blaise, and someone else wanted me to somehow make Sirius Black not so dead anymore. So I figured, why not go all out and throw in a Mary Sue. No harm was intended in making this fic, I did it for my own and for my friends' amusement. This is my first Harry Potter fanfic (I used to be a big LOTR shipper) so be nice! Actually, I appreciate reviews of all sorts: praises, creative criticism, ideas, etc. Hope you enjoy.

**Author's P.S.:** I'm perfectly aware Blaise Zabini is a boy. Unfortunately, I started writing it before I found that out. So Blaise will remain a girl for this story.

**Author's P.P.S.:** About 70 of this fic was written prior to the HBP release. Since so much has changed since then and half the stuff could probably never happen, this will just be labeled as an AU fic.

Chapter One: The Same as Usual, Except, Not

_And believe in something more for me tonight_

_Start to begin life and not end it now…_

_To a fresh start_

_To wipe the slate clean_

_To start again_

_A new beginning_

_To get back on track_

_Restoration_

_That everyone should_

_Realize how they can feel alive…_

_ "New Beginnings," No Motiv_

She reached out one slender-fingered hand and tugged at her hair, making sure her dark, chestnut locks were properly tucked up into a loose bun. Glancing at her watch, she noticed she was right on time. She reached into the right back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of parchment: One that was torn around the edges as if hastily ripped, and creased deeply, as if it had been opened and folded many times. And it had been.

She unfolded the paper once more and carefully read the untidy script on it. She had read those words so many times, she knew what it said by heart, but read it once more just to be safe. Crumpling the parchment, she pulled out her wand. Whispering a word she tapped the paper with her wand and it burst into flames, curling, turning black, and then falling to the ground in a miniscule pile of ashes.

Closing her eyes she thought of what she had read on the now destroyed parchment. _Number twelve, Grimmauld Place_. A battered door of aged wood instantly appeared in front of her, walls, windows, and a roof following. She gave a start of surprise, hopping back slightly, her dark eyes widening with a mixture of shock, wonder, and nervousness.

This was it. There was no turning back now. She slowly and deliberately walked up the stone steps her trunk in tow, and slowly and carefully gripped the knocker with a trembling hand.

_Knock, knock, knock_. Her heart pounded slightly in her chest, and her stomach twisted into a knot, nervous about what was coming next. She could hear muffled footsteps approaching through the door, and took a deep breath as it swung open, attempting at calming her nerves. Her eyes showed a glint of apprehension and excitement, but nevertheless, she smiled wide at the dark-haired, green-eyed teenager in baggy clothes that stood in the doorway, gaping.

"Hello, you must be Harry Potter," she said.

Harry sighed and pushed his chair back, standing up and walking from the table and out of the kitchen.

"I've got to go clean up some stuff," he said glumly to Ron and Hermione, as he walked out of the room, the door banging behind him.

Hermione and Ron's eyes met. "Cleaning" could only mean one thing. Ever since Sirius's death at the end of their fifth year, Harry had changed somewhat. He was still brave, and kind, and furiously loving and loyal, but there were times he also seemed distant and lonely. After experiencing all of sixth year with the new Harry, his two friends had grown adjusted to his mannerisms, knowing that he would never entirely get over his godfather's death. And to top it all off, even this much later he still was slowly sorting through Sirius's things, cleaning out his bedroom, and so forth when not at school.

As Harry climbed the long flights of stairs to his room, he sighed heavily, his legs feeling more like lead than they had ever felt. Being back at the Order of the Phoenix, the Blacks' house had reminded him of how much he really missed Sirius, almost to the point where he thought he couldn't bear it any longer.

Sitting on his bed, he reached for the melted and twisted blob of plastic and steel, the last remnants of the beloved knife Sirius had given him. It had been melted and rendered into something useless during his confrontation with Voldemort, and the death of his godfather in the Department of Mysteries just at the end of fifth year.

He felt the familiar weight in his hand, closing his fist around it. And then bringing his hand to his lips, he kissed it gently in a tender gesture. He knew that he would someday have to finally let go of Sirius, but there was something in his heart that knew, or at least hoped desperately, that he was still alive somewhere.

He placed the knife back onto his bedside table, right next to the chipped hand mirror Sirius had given him as a way for them to communicate during Umbridge's short reign as Headmaster at Hogwarts. He had found the partner to his mirror in Sirius's sock drawer, and had given it to Ron for safekeeping.

Lying back on his still unmade bed, he stared up at the ceiling, thinking and seeing, but not really thinking and seeing at all. The sunlight streaming through the window cast its rays on Harry, a gentle, warm caress for the heartbroken, but slowly healing boy. Harry felt his eyelids droop and felt himself floating away into the dark haze of sleep.

_Harry gasped as he looked around. He was once again walking through the long dark corridor of the Department of Mysteries: one that he hadn't seen or been in for over a year. Turning a corner, a black door swung open taking him through another hallway and into a stone amphitheatre. The auditorium was like those of ancient times, with hard benches circling the room, and a round stage at the bottom. _

_Instead of walking he flew down the stairs, and then he saw the raised platform, on which rested the tall columns and a black veil in-between. But then he wasn't in the amphitheatre anymore, in fact, far from it. The black veil still remained before him, but his surroundings had changed and he was in a large courtyard or garden of some sort. _

_Whispering voices and haunting melodies reached his ears, and a soft breeze blew. Harry stepped closer to the veil as if knowing those sounds and that wind were coming from just behind it. And then he heard a distinct voice, talking louder and clearer than the others. That voice morphed into the sound of a laugh like a bark and Harry knew who was behind the veil._

_Sirius._

_Harry's heart started to flutter with hope when a flash of green light crossed his vision and his godfather's bark turned into a scream. Wicked laughter reached Harry. Knowing there was trouble, Harry reached towards the veil and walked through it._

_Or at least, tried to._

_His head banged against the veil that had become a wooden door._

Bolting upright, Harry panted heavily as if he had just come in from Quidditch practice. His scar upon his forehead burned slightly, and he clapped a hand over it, willing the pain away. Running his hands through his hair, he suddenly leaped out of bed when he realized someone was knocking at the door.

"I'll get it!" he shrieked, racing down the stairs and into the front hall. It seemed as though no one had heard the knocking, and Sirius's mother's portrait wasn't even screaming horrible insults to get anyone's attention. Mrs. Black had stopped yelling and screeching at every disturbance once she had learned of her son's death. Although she seemed to hate him as a flower hates a gnome, she still was grieved.

Harry pulled his pants up higher on his hips with one hand and reached for the doorknob with another. He could only assume it was Mundungus, who was the only one who ever knocked. But, as Harry supposed, it was probably because Mrs. Weasley never was able to trust him completely to tell him how to open the door.

He slowly pulled the door open, but his grin suddenly turned into a frown, and then into a mixture of surprise and apprehension.

Mundungus wasn't standing in front of the doorway. A girl was.

Harry was only vaguely aware that the girl had said his name and he nodded faintly wondering who she was and how she found out the location of the Order of the Phoenix. He gripped his wand tightly inside the pocket of his jeans, not entirely sure if he should let her in or slam the door in her face.

Was it Tonks playing a joke? Was she a Death Eater in disguise? How _did_ she know his name?

Harry must have been staring at her with a strange expression on his face, because she raised an eyebrow and said, "Well… aren't you going to let me in?"

"Um..." Harry began. But he never finished what he was going to say because all of a sudden Remus Lupin breezed into the foyer and proceeded to sweep the girl into his arms in a tight embrace.

"Uncle Moony!" she exclaimed happily, returning Lupin's hug. Lupin pulled back and studied the girl.

"You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you," Lupin commented.

"Yeah. That's because I'm seventeen now," the girl replied, rolling her eyes. "I think the last time we saw each other, I was twelve."

"Ah, right. Well… I suppose you've heard enough of that. Anyways… how's that cousin of mine? And his wife?"

"Well… mom and dad are still alive, if that's what you mean." She received a whack over the head for that. "Okay! I'm sorry! They're doing just fine, but they're a little worried about me living here."

"And that's perfectly understandable, considering the present circumstances," Lupin replied.

Suddenly, from behind them, someone cleared their throat rather loudly. It was Harry. He had stepped back when the girl dove into Lupin's hug, watching the pair's greeting in a rather bewildered way.

"Oh!" Lupin started. "Sorry Harry. I'm sure you're a bit miffed as to why a perfect stranger has shown up here of all places. I'll just call everyone down here and introduce everyone." He stepped over to the fireplace and reached for a bottle resting on top of the mantle. Casting some of the sparkling blue powder into the fire (it had turned a neon pink color) he called, "All of you guys… I need a word!"

As soon as he said those words, thundering footsteps could be heard as everyone in the house walked down the stairs from their bedrooms and out of the kitchen, den, living room, and garden. Like some stereotypical family television show Harry would sometimes watch at the Dursleys', they all gathered in the foyer, chattering quietly and wondering why they had been assembled.

Harry took this time to study the girl carefully and knew everyone else was doing the same. She was standing next to Lupin looking rather nervous, her brown hair swept back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, a few wisps swept across her forehead, and wearing a pale pink tank top and jeans. Her chocolate eyes stared at each of them in turn just as intently, sweeping from Harry, tall, thin, with unruly black hair, vivid green eyes, and an unmistakable lightning bolt scar on his forehead, to the Weasley kids (Bill to Ginny) and their parents all with flaming red hair. Her eyes then roamed to Hermione, who was smiling encouragingly, her thick, honey-brown hair slightly longer than it had been the year previous, and her skin golden from spending half the summer in Greece with her Muggle parents.

The girl couldn't help but smile slightly, warming instantly towards Hermione who seemed quite friendly, and half laughing at her own nervousness. After all, they seemed like nice people, and if Lupin liked them, so would she.

Lupin spoke again, bringing the girl and everyone else out of their reveries. "Well, everyone… this is Lacey Lupin. She's my cousin's only daughter and as I've mentioned to some of you, she'll be staying here for the year as a foreign exchange student at Hogwarts and as the newest edition to the Order. But I think that's enough for now." He turned to Lacey, "I'm sure you'll have fun here, and we'll take your things and bring them up to your room." Lupin smiled once more at Lacey and turned to leave the room. "You'll have to forgive me, dear… I promised I'd speak with Kingsley now and I'd hate to keep him waiting."

As he left, Mrs. Weasley bustled forward in a motherly manner and began herding everyone back upstairs, speaking to Lacey as she did so. "Hello, dear, it's so nice to finally meet you. Remus has said such wonderful things about you. I'm sure you're exhausted from your trip and I'm sure you would like to rest and freshen up. I'll bring your luggage up and show you to your room." She turned to everyone else. "Now I want you all to be on your best behavior and let Lacey rest. We've got a welcoming party tonight and you can get to know her then." She turned back to Lacey who was quite overwhelmed by Mrs. Weasley's fast talking. "Now, you can just follow me. Be careful of the fourth step, it likes to trip visitors."

"We'll take her, mum!" two redheaded boys said in unison, friendly, but mischievous smiles plastered on their identical faces.

"Well… alright Gred and Forge, go on then." Mrs. Weasley then hurried off to join Remus and Kingsley.

"Gred and Forge, eh?" one of the twins said to the other. "Mum must be mad."

"I'd say you're bloody well right on that one, bro," the other replied. He turned to Lacey. "I'm Gred, better known as George, and this is Forge, or Fred."

Lacey laughed. "Well it's nice to meet you both." She let the stocky twins magic her luggage into the air as they started moving it up the stairs. "Now, which stair is the one that likes to trip people?"

"It's the third one," George answered slyly. At that moment, Lacey skipped over the third step and jumped to the fourth, only to be sent sprawling up the stairs, her hands out in front of her to brace herself.

"By 'third,' I think he meant 'fourth,'" Fred said. Lacey laughed good-naturedly and followed the boys up two flights of stairs. The twins pointed out their room, Hermione and Ginny's room, and Harry and Ron's room along the way. Right across the hall from Hermione and Ginny's, they stopped.

"We would like to welcome you to your humble abode," George said, as Fred opened the bedroom door and bowed.

"Why, thank you kind sirs," Lacey replied as her bags and trunk set themselves on the floor at the foot of her bed. She waved to Fred and George before shutting her door, intent on unpacking her things.

"So, why is it that I knew absolutely nothing about Lindsay until today?" Ron asked sitting on his unmade bed and frowning.

"It's Lacey," Hermione corrected him. "And besides… she seems really nice. It'll be fun for a change to have another girl around."

"Yeah," Ginny agreed from her spot on the floor between Ron and Harry's beds. "She's really pretty too."

"Because we care about that," Ron said rolling his eyes. "I mean… we hang out with you girls."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked glaring at him. Ron flushed pink.

"No… I didn't mean that…"

"Oh, Ron, give me a break. Besides, they know you didn't mean anything by it," Harry interrupted. "But what I want to know is why someone, especially Lupin, didn't say anything about Lacey before. She's Lupin's niece for bloody sakes."

"Well… technically he's not my uncle," a voice chimed in from the doorway. "He's actually my dad's cousin, which would make him my second cousin, or first cousin once removed, or something like that."

The four of them turned around, startled. "Mind if I come in?" Lacey was standing at the doorway smiling confidently, but her tentative posture gave away her uncertainty.

"Oh! Of course!" Hermione exclaimed, smiling warmly.

"Thanks." Lacey walked across the room and flopped down next to Ron on his messy bed. She looked thoughtfully at the crumpled sheet next to her and then across at Harry's bed, neatly made. "I don't ever make my bed either,' she whispered to Ron, who was attempting to make his bed without being noticed.

"I don't believe we've all been introduced yet. I'm Ginny Weasley," the petite girl said.

"Oh, of course! I can't believe I forgot about that. I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said. "And that's Harry Potter, obviously."

"And you must be Ron Weasley," Lacey assumed. "Uncle Moony's told me all about you guys. But don't worry… he's only said good things."

Harry had been sitting quietly on his bed, observing Lacey as Hermione chatted away. It was only now that he noticed Lacey had an American accent. She seemed nice, and was friendly and funny, but for some reason Harry didn't feel quite entirely comfortable with her yet. Before he could stop himself, he asked what he'd been wanting to know, "Why are you here? How come we didn't know about you until today?"

The four others turned to look at him, surprised as his sudden question. Lacey seemed unfazed by it and answered readily. Perhaps she thought if she answered all their questions without any hesitation, they'd finally fully trust her.

"As said before, I'm here as a foreign exchange student. I know I'll be the only one, considering everyone's too scared because of Voldemort." Ron flinched when he heard the name, but Hermione noticed a quick flash of some emotion in Harry's eyes. Triumph, maybe?

"Anyways," Lacey continued, "There's a good reason only _some_ people knew about me coming. Dumbledore, Lupin, others. Security measures. I'm staying at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore was afraid if everyone knew, word would get out and it would jeopardize security. Don't ask me how."

"Well, it makes sense," Hermione said.

"It does?" Ron asked, confused.

"Well, yes. If everyone knew Lacey was coming here, word could get to the wrong people. They could have followed her here and then found out about the Order. That's why we didn't know about it. That's why she's dressed in Muggle clothes," Hermione explained simply. "Happy now, Harry?" She looked rather disgruntled.

"Wow. You're good." Lacey was impressed.

"Too good," Harry said, looking half impressed, half embarrassed. That would teach him to keep his mouth shut from now on.

"So, Lupin said you were the newest member of the Order. How come you get to be in it and we don't?" Ginny wondered.

"Me? A member? I think he was just hypothetically speaking. My parents are, though," Lacey said.

"Do your parents work for Gringotts?" Ron asked.

"My dad does. Mom's a healer. And yes, my parents were two of the Americans Bill was able to recruit for the Order," Lacey replied.

"Is there activity there?" Harry was suddenly rapt with attention. "What do you know about Voldemort?"

"Well… there's been some recent killings, and the government's screwed. Our President of Magic is a corrupt old bastard, and Death Eater wannabes are everywhere. But actual Death Eaters? I'm not so sure about that. I know a few of my classmates' fathers are involved in shady stuff and I can only assume that they're agents of Voldemort. I do know for a fact that Voldemort's influence is everywhere." Lacey looked grim. "So what about here? My parents won't tell me a damn thing, and I haven't been able to weasel much information out of Moony, either. And Harry, you've got to tell me all about your adventures and life as 'hero of this world,'" Lacey teased. Ginny snorted.

Just then, Ron's stomach rumbled. "I'm starving."

The fireplace in the room crackled and pink flames appeared. "Kids! Dinner's ready!"

"Looks like your prayers are answered, Weasley," Harry said.

"There is a God! I knew it!" Ron waved his wand once and disappeared with a pop. Following suit, Harry, Hermione, and Lacey also disapparated to the kitchen, laughing.

Ginny looked murderous and started out the door and down the stairs. "Sure… just because you're of age now doesn't mean you have to flaunt it. Magic during summer holidays, my ass," she grumbled.

"And welcome to Diagon Alley!" Hermione said.

"Oooh!" Lacey squealed. "It's so charming! I love London!" Her eyes twinkled as she admired the cobbled streets, the quaint store windows, and took in the smell of food and potions, and the sight of goblins, and dwarfs, and all other magical creatures.

"Well… since you need new school robes, and so does Harry, why don't you two head over to Madam Malkin's and the rest of us will get books," suggested Hermione.

"Sounds good. We'll meet you at the pet store in half an hour. I've got to pick up some owl pellets for Hedwig," Harry replied.

So Harry and Lacey head off to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, only stopping once to get free ice cream from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Florean had taken a liking to Harry in his third year when he would spend all day in his shop studying, and despite Harry's red cheeks and babbling, insisted on giving "his special lady friend" a snack too.

They walked into the store together, filled with shy first years and a few older kids, and were herded to stools to stand on by a walking mannequin stuck full of pins. An elderly witch, squat and grumpy approached the two of them and began measuring them.

"Hey Harry!" two seventh year girls called, waving and giggling. They were both very pretty and were dressed in fashionable summer robes.

Harry flushed slightly and sheepishly waved back. "Hi."

"Who's your friend?" one of the girls asked.

"I'm Lacey Lupin. I'm a foreign exchange student," Lacey replied. The two girls reminded her of some of her friends back home. A little too girly and giggly, but nice.

"I'm Lavender, and this is Parvati," the tall girl with light hair said. "Well, we've got to get measured. See you around." Both of them waved and headed to the other side of the room.

"They seemed nice," Lacey commented.

"Er… yes," Harry said, not quite sure what to say.

A while later, Lacey and Harry both emerged from Madam Malkin's, loaded with parcels containing black cloaks, black robes, and grey pullovers, blazers, sweater vests, skirts, pants, white Oxford shirts, and ties.

Lacey shifted her load in her arms slightly, reaching into the pocket of her khaki skirt and pulling out her wand. She tapped her parcels once and they immediately shrunk down into the size of one shopping bag. "Here," she said, also shrinking Harry's things down for him.

But he hardly noticed. He was staring intently in the other direction, watching something or someone carefully that Lacey couldn't see from her position.

"Here, take this," Harry said abruptly, shoving his bag into Lacey's stomach rather roughly. "I'll meet you guys later." He turned to go in the other direction.

"But wait!" Lacey began. "What about the owl pellets?"

"Just buy them for me. Ron knows what kind to get. I'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron in an hour." And with that, Harry jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and head off, head bent down slightly, blue robes floating out behind him, and walking rather quickly.

He apparated right in front of Devita's Diamond Jewelers, his dark cloak swirling around him, his hood drawn up to hide his face. People bustled by, muttering to themselves, carrying huge packages, or gossiping about the latest article in the _Daily Prophet_. All of them passed him by, oblivious to the one lone, dark figure.

Good. It was better if no one saw him.

He glanced once to the left, once to the right, and once behind him, just barely flicking his eyes in each direction. When he saw no one following him, he quickly moved into the shadow of the jewelry shop, shielded from the sun. He was uncomfortably sweaty though his cloak was charmed to keep cool during even the hottest day of summer, but he was hot not from the sun, but from trepidation.

He peeked in the window and saw the store was filled with people. It was the perfect time of day to do this. He wanted as many in the store as possible. All the commotion and noise would distract anyone that might be watching from what he was going to do.

He pushed the door open and strolled in, his expensive shoes clicking against the marble floor. Making his way past people, trying to avoid being jostled, he arrived at a glass counter in the back of the store.

He pulled something out of the folds of his robes, fingering it firmly, his long, thin fingers rolling the object back and forth. Closing his fist around it tightly, he squeezed his hand hard, until he felt the cold metal dig painfully into his palm.

He looked up when he sensed someone behind the counter in front of him, and he raised his head slightly. The man standing in front of him was lean and lank, cloaked in black robes, only the sallow skin of his hands, neck, and face showing between the layers of fabric. The man swept his stringy, oily hair from his face and his black eyes only showed the slightest flicker of recognition before he spoke.

"Yes? How may I help you, today, sir?" the man behind the counter said.

The other pushed his dark hood back, revealing silvery hair, steely grey eyes, and a pale, pointed face with delicate features. "Hello, Professor Snape," he drawled, voice low and barely above a whisper.

"Why, young Master Malfoy, what a pleasant surprise," Snape replied, speaking carefully as if measuring each word. "How may I help you?"

Malfoy brought his hand forward, slapping the object that had been clenched in his fist hard on the glass counter. The large, pewter ring shone in the dim light, its red jewel gleaming. Thorns were carved on the ring, winding around the band and connecting to a skull, its mouth holding the ruby. It was beautiful and dangerous, wonderfully, but wickedly made.

"My father gave this to me recently, but the band doesn't quite fit right. I was hoping you could adjust it for me. I would have shrunken the ring myself, but it holds great power, and I did not want to risk harm," Malfoy explained.

"Yes, I understand perfectly." Snape examined the ring closely before closing his hand around it. "I will have to look at this. It should be fixed within the week."

Malfoy nodded curtly, looking bored, as usual. He leaned casually against the counter, ankles crossed, his hair looking elegantly mussed. "I appreciate that." He stuck out one hand.

Snape looked at it for a moment, before pressing his hand into Malfoy's. Snape grasped the hand firmly and shook it, bending his head slightly, so his mouth was near Malfoy's ear. Malfoy felt his hair ruffle slightly as Snape murmured something, and muttered a response back, hardly moving his lips at all. Both of them stepped back from each other, and Malfoy gave a swift nod before turning away and sweeping out of the store onto the bright, cobblestone street of Diagon Alley.

Malfoy inhaled deeply, breathing in the smell of fresh air. His usual leisurely stroll now had an added bounce in it. He reached into the pocket of his pants, but withdrew his hand when he realized the ring he was looking for was currently not with him. He struggled not to smile. Malfoys never smiled. But he strangely couldn't help feeling somewhat freer and more hopeful. A strange thing for him to feel indeed.

Something seen out of the corner of his eye caught Harry's attention. A dark figure walking swiftly down the street looked oddly familiar to Harry. Shoving his purchases into Lacey's stomach rather roughly (he heard her grunt as the air whooshed out of her lungs) Harry sped after the figure, not looking back.

Harry followed, staying close enough as not to lose him, but far enough behind so he wouldn't seem like he was following. Amazingly, he found himself led to a jewelry shop nearby, and not to Knockturn Alley, where he assumed the mysterious figure was sure to go.

Once the figure went inside the shop, Harry waited a minute before going in, and just in time to see him push his hood back and reveal pale, blond hair.

"Malfoy," Harry growled under his breath. What was Malfoy doing here out of all places? It probably wasn't anything good.

Just then, a voice came from just behind his left shoulder. "May I help you with something, sir?" a salesman asked looking rather annoyed.

"Er…" Harry began. "Er… I'm just looking at this watch over here," he lied quickly.

The salesman narrowed his eyes, but soon they opened wide in recognition, and his eyes swept to his forehead and noticed his scar. "Oh, of course, Mr. Potter. I shall leave you to browse."

"Thanks," Harry grumbled, feeling the familiar mix of irritation and embarrassment whenever someone recognized him and so obviously stared at the thin, lightning bolt-shaped scar that adorned his forehead.

Harry pretended to be interested in a particular gold watch, all the while keeping an eye on Malfoy. To his amazement, Snape was behind the counter talking to him, and seemed to work in the shop. He couldn't tell what they were saying, but saw Malfoy hand something small that glimmered red and silver to Snape. Harry was pretty sure he saw Malfoy and Snape whisper a few words out of the corner of their mouths to each other as they shook hands, but Harry's glasses were smudged, so he wasn't positive what he saw.

Harry held his breath and ducked under a table as Malfoy sauntered past, and didn't leave the store until he had seen him walk down the street and disapparate on a corner.

And then Harry burst out of the shop and ran down the brick street to the pet shop where he knew everyone was waiting, hair blowing in the breeze, and his light blue cloak trailing behind him.

"That's odd," Hermione said. "So you're saying Harry just left you?"

"Yeah. He shoved his bag at me and just walked off without saying anything. I think he saw someone," Lacey mused.

"Maybe it was Cho, yeah?" Ron said, snorting.

"Please Ron, there hasn't been a Cho since fifth year," Ginny replied rolling her eyes. "You know that."

"Who's Cho?" Lacey asked, interested to know about Harry's love life.

"Harry's ex-girlfriend. He liked her for ages and they finally went out fifth year. It didn't really work out though," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Ginny added, "I was more of a physical attraction, but they were better off as friends. Remember how Harry and Cho would get into fights?"

"I remember," Hermione replied.

"Too bad Cho left last year," Ron frowned. "She was hot."

Lacey laughed. "Ron, you pig," she teased.

Just then their laughter was interrupted when Harry burst into the pet store, startling some owls in their cages. He walked up to them, out of breath.

"Harry… what--?" Lacey began.

Harry cut her off. "You guys will never guess who I just saw."


	2. The Boy With the Dead Unicorn

Chapter Two: The Boy With the Dead Unicorn

_So run..._

_Right back to school_

_Look back I sift through all the cliques…_

_While everyone's out trying to make the cut…_

_When you think you know me…_

_I switch it up…_

_Now grab a notebook and a pen_

_And start taking notes on me and everyone who's on the top_

_You think we're on the same page_

_But I know we're not_

_I'll be the man, watch your backpack, pens, and pencils…_

_Close the book up now_

_Push back the square…_

_So there you go_

_Cuz back in school_

_We are the leaders of all..._

_ "Back to School," Deftones_

So Harry learned that apparently most of the professors at Hogwarts had multiple jobs. Dumbledore was busy with the Order of the Phoenix, but also worked with the Ministry and reluctantly with Fudge. Professor McGonagall taught an advanced Transfiguration class during the summer, Madame Pomphrey worked as a Healer at St. Mungo's, and Snape, as Harry had seen, worked at the Jewelry shop in his spare time.

And Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Lacey learned that Draco Malfoy had been in Diagon Alley the day they went shopping for school, and that he had had some mysterious business with Snape. Whether good or bad, none of them knew, but as Ron said, it was very unlikely Malfoy would _ever_ do anything even remotely good.

The summer holidays were almost over; in just a little over a week, they would find themselves boarding the Hogwarts Express heading back to school. Slowly things had been gathered up around the Black House and put back where they belonged, or else packed into their trunks for school.

They had all gone over to a local public Quidditch stadium that day, to play around. Hermione was sitting up in the stands, her _Transfiguration for Life_ textbook spread out across her knees, and she was practicing a spell under her breath, periodically changing the seat next to her into a bunk bed and back. It was lucky for her she was seventeen and of age, otherwise she wouldn't have been able to start practicing spells.

On the other hand, Harry, Ron, Lacey, and Ginny were up in the air on their brooms, zooming back and forth on their broomsticks. Harry marveled at the speed of his Firebolt X-treme, having bought it a few weeks ago when his old broom finally decided to stop working. Ginny was riding Ron's old Cleansweep, and Ron was on his regular Firebolt, finally having saved up enough money to buy it the year before. And all the while Lacey was enjoying the wind sweeping past her face, she was listening to Ron rave about her BadaBroom! 3000, a professional broom which was favored just as much as Harry's by the pro Quidditch teams.

"Alright," Ron began, clearing his throat in a bossy manner and stopping in the middle of the field. "As captain of the Gryffindor team for the second year running, I would like to call this first practice of the season to order."

"What the hell, Ron?" Harry said. "The whole team isn't here. School hasn't even started yet."

"I'm practicing."

"Practicing what?" Ginny scoffed.

"My beginning of the season speech," he explained, blushing slightly.

"Awww…" Lacey teased. "Well then, captain… perhaps you could tell me what positions aren't filled yet. I need to try out you know."

"Beaters. We need two beaters. Fred and George's replacements suck, honestly. So I'm replacing them. And we need two Chasers."

"Sounds like you need almost a full new team," Lacey said.

"Chaser then?" Ron asked.

"Hell no. I stink at scoring. I can throw and I can catch, but I can't shoot." Lacey pondered a moment. "I played Seeker on the team back home, but obviously I can't play that…" she trailed off looking quickly at Harry. "So I guess it's Beater for me."

Ron looked skeptical. "You can hit good enough?"

"'Fo shizzle," Lacey replied causing Ginny to laugh hysterically. Lacey grinned and rolled her eyes. "By your tone, are you saying I'm a girl and therefore can't hit a Bludger?"

"No," Ron replied too quickly.

"Yes," Ginny answered for him. "Ron… jeez… at least let her show you what she can do."

Harry flew to the ground and grabbed a bat and a struggling Bludger. He handed the bat to Lacey, and managed to put the violently jerking balling Ron's hands. Ron then flew down to the end of the field as Lacey readied herself.

And just as Ron released the Bludger and it rocketed into the air, Hermione gave a shriek. Forgetting everything, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Lacey raced to her. But instead of seeing a distressed Hermione, they found her sitting on the edge of her seat, her books and wand forgotten, letters in her lap and a look of glee upon her face.

"I—" she gasped. "I –"

"Yes?" Ron snapped, irritated at the interruption of Quidditch playing.

Lacey sighed and snatched the letter Hermione was clutching out of her waving hand. It seemed that she had lost her ability to speak. Lacey quickly skimmed the letter, and suddenly broke out in a wide smile. "Looks like someone was appointed Head Girl."

"Head Girl? 'Mione! That's fantastic!" Ginny squealed, grabbing Hermione out of her seat and spinning around in a circle.

"Here Ron, you have a letter too." Hermione managed to squeak. "You too Lacey." Ron took both their letters and handed Lacey hers as he ripped his open.

Harry prayed quietly to himself that Ron would get Head Boy. He knew Ron would. But Ron's look of excitement quickly faded to disappointment. He reread the letter taking in every work before letting the letter drop to the floor.

"What's wrong, Ron?" Hermione asked, looking concerned. When he didn't reply, Hermione picked the letter off the ground and read it herself. "Oh Ron," she began, a sympathetic expression on her face, "I'm sorry." She placed her hand on his arm. "But cheer up. You may not be Head Boy, but you're still prefect."

"Yeah… I guess," Ron grumbled, managing a weak smile. But it did little to cover the fact that he was crumbling inside. After a minute of silence, Ron asked, "Well then, Lacey, what does your letter say?"

"I don't even know who'd be writing to me," she said. "Mom and Dad just sent me a letter yesterday." She tore open the wax seal and out popped a shiny silver badge.

Ginny's jaw dropped as she grabbed the badge. "Prefect? You've been made prefect?"

"What?" Ron said. Hermione and Harry just stared.

"I… don't understand," Lacey said, shaking her head. "How can I be? It should be Harry."

"It _can't _be me," Harry replied struggling not to look bitter and disappointed. "One boy and one girl prefect from each of the years, five through seven, from each of the Houses. Ron's still prefect, so the only other seventh year Gryffindor prefect can be a girl."

"B-But me?" Lacey wondered. "It can't be. It _shouldn't_. Dumbledore doesn't know me. I've only met him about three times. How can he know whether or not I could do the job?"

"Well… congrats anyway!" Ginny said, breaking the shocked atmosphere. Lacey just gaped.

"This is too weird," Ron said. "It's not right."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Lacey said, slightly recovered from the initial shock. "It can't be right. I think something's going on. Someone's planning something."

They all turned to stare at Lacey. "Someone _has _to be planning something," Hermione reasoned. "Someone must know something. That's why Ron isn't Head Boy, that's why you're prefect…" Hermione trailed off. "I wonder who's Head Boy now anyways."

"I think it's best we don't think about it right now," Harry said. He was beginning to grow concerned. And resentful. "It's getting late, anyways," he said. "We should go."

"Gladly," Ginny grumbled. She hated all the cryptic discussions she found herself often listening in on. Because Voldemort was slowly returning to his full power, all she heard about now was him. And it didn't help that her brother's best friend was the one that would have to defeat him. She was bored of listening to things she didn't fully understand, annoyed at always constantly feeling left out, and worried.

Harry disappeared with a pop, followed by Hermione who was holding on to Ginny. And just as Ron and Lacey were getting ready to go, the Bludger Ron had released just half and hour ago whooshed out of the air towards the two of them. They rolled out of the way when it flew by their heads. Lacey readied the Beaters' bat in her hands and swung hard at the Bludger when it shot back towards her. It flew across the Quidditch field and out of sight.

"Whoa," Lacey said. "That's got to be one of my best hits. Hey Ron… did you see that? I _can_ be a Beater." She turned around to stick her tongue out at Ron and saw he had already gone.

"Oh, crap," she said and disapperated.

Harry woke up suddenly, drenched in a cold sweat. It was the third time he had had that dream with the black veil in it, except now Draco Malfoy and his mysterious meeting with Professor Snape, and Lacey, Ron, and Hermione taunting him with their prefect and Head badges were all in it. He fumbled at the nightstand next to him and put on his glasses, sitting up in bed.

He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall above him between his and Ron's beds, and noticed it was only five thirty in the morning. Ron was asleep in the bed next to him, mouth open, hair mussed, and periodically twitching and snoring. And resting on the table next to him, newly polished and gleaming in the dim light of dawn sat his prefect badge.

Harry studied the badge for a moment, the silver "P" shining brightly and the Gryffindor colors and lion surrounding it as if taunting him. A familiar feeling of jealousy and unfairness he hadn't experienced since fifth year welled up in his chest, forcing its way up his throat and threatening to spill out of him. He fisted a hand and slammed it into his pillow, immediately calming down.

But he didn't feel it was fair. Hermione got Head Girl, which was expected, and having found out Ron was not chosen for Head Boy, Harry expected he would be chosen. After all, you didn't have to be a prefect first to be a Head. He figured it would work out the same way for him as it had for his father. But he was wrong. And to top it all off, Lacey, who was just a stranger, managed to snag prefect without lifting a finger.

Lacey had done nothing. Not like Harry. Harry had been at Hogwarts for six years, Harry had escaped Voldemort seven times, Harry had to grow up an orphan, he had to watch his godfather die. And this year, he would have to kill or be killed.

What did Lacey have that he didn't? What did Ron have? So what if he "had enough responsibility to deal with?" Didn't he deserve the honor of being Head? Harry found himself grinding his teeth together in anger at Dumbledore's decision.

But then Ron snorted and rolled over, both his legs hanging over the bed. Harry's train of thought was broken and he felt the burn of shame. He was angry at his best friend and someone he hardly knew for something that couldn't be helped. And Dumbledore did have a justified reason for not appointing him one of those jobs. Harry stifled a groan, angry at his own thoughts.

He slipped under his bedcovers after a few minutes and eventually fell asleep again. And when he woke up, he didn't remember his envy in the chaos of leaving for the train station.

The newborn baby unicorn was of the purest gold color, mane, tail, and coat pristine and shimmering in the sun. And when boy met unicorn it was love at first sight. They played together and rode together and formed a bond so deep. And they grew together, the pale, fair-haired boy, and the pale, fair-furred steed.

Their companionship was so unusual, for unicorns had a hard time trusting humans, even innocent young children, yet these two got along very well. The unicorn had been a birthday gift from the boy's father, his five-year-old dream fulfilled.

And then one day, when the unicorn was just growing up and turning its mature, whitish silver color, the father led the boy to the stable. And the father drew his sword and killed the poor animal right before the little boy's eyes.

And in that single moment, when the purest of animals was brutally bloodied, did the little boy lose his innocence.

This little boy burst into tears and threw his arms around his father's knees. "Father! Why did you kill him?" the boy cried.

The father pushed the boy away roughly before answering. "You made the unicorn love you and you loved it in return. That is the worse thing you could have ever done."

Tears flowed freely down the little boy's pale cheeks. "Why, father? Why is it bad to love?"

The father sneered cruelly. "Love is the worst thing in the world. It is nothing but a lie. Love is not wonderful. It causes pain. You loved the unicorn and the unicorn died. Thus, love causes pain and grief." The father grabbed the boy roughly by the shoulders and shook him. "Love is nothing but ruin in the end. There is no such thing as love and you must never love any single thing or anyone. And you must never cry."

The little boy wiped his clear grey eyes with the palms of his hands as he nodded at his father in defeat.

His father continued. "Love is the worst thing in the world. Always remember that, Draco. Always remember."

And the little boy and his father walked back into the Manor to lead a hate-filled and evil life.

"Hurry up now!" Mrs. Weasley shouted over the roar of the Hogwarts Express steam engine. She herded everyone towards the train waving her arms about. "Harry, do you have Hedwig? Ron! Quit talking and give the conductor your bloody trunk!" Mrs. Weasley turned towards the girls and began scolding them too.

"Hermione, please _do_ make sure you don't lose Lacey, she doesn't know anyone yet. Lacey, come over here and close your trunk properly." She then reached over and snatched something out of Ginny's hair. "Don't wear that ridiculous hat, it's too adult for you." Ginny scowled as her mother took it, and grabbed it out of her hands stowing it away in her trunk.

"Ron, Lacey, you can take a break now," Hermione said. "I'll patrol your areas for you."

Needing no further bidding, the two of them headed down the train corridor. "Those first-year midgets are nothing but a bunch of prats," Ron complained more to himself than to Lacey. She snorted as she pulled open the door to a compartment.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed as the two of them walked in. Neville, Dean, and Seamus were all in the compartment with him.

"Who's Head Boy, then?" Neville asked, munching on a Chocolate Frog.

Ron scowled. "Draco Malfoy." There was a chorus of vehement exclamations from all the boys. "Yeah. I know."

"Well sit down, why don't you," Seamus said, pointing to the seat next to him.

"Oh bother," Ron said, "Lacey, there's not enough room for you. Sorry."

Lacey raised an eyebrow feeling a bit left out, but managed a smile. "Oh, that's okay. I'll go find Ginny."

Ginny was sitting in a compartment further down the corridor with a bunch of other girls. Lacey knocked lightly on the window before sliding the door open and stepping inside.

"Oh, hi Lacey!" Ginny said brightly. "Come on, sit down." She patted the seat beside her.

"Hi," Lacey said a little apprehensively to the other girls who were watching her. And then she recognized two of the girls in the compartment. She had seen them in Madam Malkin's a few weeks ago.

"Hi Lacey," the pretty Indian girl said. "I'm Parvati if you don't remember and this is Lavender," she said pointing to the other girl Lacey recognized.

"I'm Blaise," the fourth girl added, smiling warmly and she tucked a strand of rust-color hair back into her ponytail.

"Cool name," Lacey commented, plopping down in the seat next to Ginny. "I'm exhausted," she sighed. "In the words of your brother, 'those first-year midgets are nothing but a bunch of prats.'" Ginny laughed.

"That Ron Weasley is so immature," Lavender sniffed.

"True," Parvati agreed, "But he's still cute. I wonder if he'll ever get with Hermione."

Lacey raised her eyebrows, interested. "Well, it's a relief to know I'm not the only one that's wondered about that."

"It's so obvious," Ginny replied. "Just look at how he acts around her. It's not as obvious now, but you should have seen them argue in their third and fourth years. They sounded like an old married couple."

"Why don't I find that hard to believe?" Lacey asked, grinning. She was beginning to feel as comfortable with these girls as she felt with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They reminded her so much of some of her friends back home. Girly and gossipy.

"So what house do you want to be sorted into?" Blaise asked.

Lacey looked confused. "You mean I don't just stay in the same house as the people I stay with?"

"No," Ginny replied. "Just 'cause I'm in Gryffindor doesn't mean you'll be. Exchange students are always sorted."

"Any ideas, then?" Blaise asked again.

"Oh, I don't know…" Lacey trailed off, thinking. "Gryffindor I guess. But just because I know people already. I suppose I wouldn't mind going to another house."

"Oh yes you would," Ginny, Blaise, and Parvati all said in unison. Lavender just shrugged.

"Slytherin's the worst," Parvati said. "Only bad wizards go there. You know that." She cast a sidelong gaze at Blaise. "Well… except for one."

Lacey turned to Blaise. "You're in Slytherin?" she asked. Blaise nodded. "Well," Lacey continued. "Then Slytherin can't be all bad."

"Yeah," Lavender agreed looking both ashamed and dreamy at the same time. "Especially when they've got gorgey guys like Draco Malfoy."

Ginny scowled. "He might be cute. _Slightly_. But he's absolutely horrible. Always bullying anyone who's not part of his group of worshippers. Not to mention, his father is one of You-know-who's top Death Eaters."

Lacey frowned. "Then why are you so different?" she asked Blaise.

"My sisters were all in Slytherin. In fact, I think everyone in the family was in Slytherin. We're purebloods, and although only a couple of my uncles and one of my sister's boyfriends are Death Eaters, my whole family supports You-know-who," Blaise answered, looking quite furious. "But I'm different," she reassured them. "I saw what You-know-who did to his followers who disobeyed him and what he did to their families. I'm staying out of it."

"They why were you put into Slytherin in the first place?" Lacey asked.

Blaise shook her head. "Probably just because since everyone I'm related to kisses the ground You-know-who walks on, the hat thought I'd be like that too. But I'm older and wiser."

"Speaking of Draco Malfoy…" Lavender started.

"We were?" Ginny teased, laughing.

Lavender huffed rather loudly and pointed. "Here he comes." She then made a sighing noise and buried her face from sight behind a magazine.

Ginny made an impatient, irritated noise and turned away, rummaging through her bag, as Parvati read the magazine with Lavender. Blaise just sat there, behaving rather peculiarly as Lacey watched him pass by their compartment, trying not to seem obvious.

She studied him as he passed, taking in his lithe, willowy frame, his smooth pale skin, and his silky silver-blond hair. And when he turned slightly to peer into their compartment, Lacey locked eyes with him for a split second, dark chocolate and clear grey, before he saw Blaise and sneered slightly. Lacey watched him until his black robes faded out of sight.

Lavender eagerly peered over the top of her magazine. "So, gorgeous, right?"

Lacey smirked. "Hot, yes. Nice, no." She watched Blaise out of the corner of her eye and noticed she didn't look too happy. Turning back to Lavender she added with a wicked grin. "But, he still _is_ sex on a stick. If you like the rich-boy, arrogant, cold-blooded killer type." And all the girls burst out in giggles.

"Get out of my way!" Draco Malfoy snarled, shoving a Hufflepuff second-year out of his path as he made his way through the Great Hall and towards the Slytherin table. He glanced over his shoulder once at the prefects who had just finished herding the first-years to Professor McGonagall to be sorted. They looked strangely like they had been trampled by a rampaging herd of stampeding buffalo.

Thank god he was Head Boy this year.

And of course that meant he could boss anyone he liked around. Except the professors and Hermione Granger. He knew she would get Head Girl. Stupid Mudblood.

Draco sneered at the Gryffindor table as he passed, and sauntered over to the Slytherins, taking his usual seat at the table, between Crabbe and Goyle and across from Pansy Parkinson. He liked his seat. Right in the center of attention, but in the shadows where he could sit and watch everyone without always being noticed.

Pansy giggled cruelly and pointed to a little first-year boy in line who had just fallen over. Laughter built in Draco's throat, but as it escaped his mouth, he felt strangely sick. So he settled for an expression of boredom instead.

The ancient, tattered Sorting hat and three-legged stool was brought out and everyone in the hall turned their loud voices into hissing whispers as the hat began to sing its song:

_Welcome to Hogwarts_

_Hope you have a great year_

_But what I really mean to say is_

_Hope you survive it here_

_Listen to me closely_

_Please pay attention to what I say_

_War is upon us now_

_We might not live to see next May_

_I have warned you many times before_

_But did you take heed? Did you listen?_

_This wizarding school must unite_

_So now I shall begin_

_Gryffindors are brave and bold_

_Honorable, kind and mighty_

_Slytherins are sly and cunning_

_Ambitious, eager and flighty_

_Hufflepuffs are loyal and true_

_Hardworking, patient too_

_Ravenclaws are smart and clever_

_Brainy ones are under blue_

_Separated, these Houses are great_

_But together they are greater_

_If the Houses stay apart_

_We'll all be in grave danger_

_I've warned you twice_

_I did it again_

_I pray you really listened_

_You must know where I stand_

_So now on with the year_

_The sorting shall now begin_

_But remember danger will fall_

_Unless we unite under one leader again_

Pansy looked over at the other tables and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Ugh! Unite with them? No way. Thank god I'm a Slytherin." Crabbe and Goyle chuckled dully in agreement. Draco simply smirked and watched as Strauss, Becky got sorted into Ravenclaw.

And then he saw her. The mysterious girl he had caught a glimpse of on the train sitting beside that Zabini girl. Draco hadn't recognized her, but recalled hearing of an exchange student coming this year so he assumed it was her.

Draco watched her closely from his darkened corner of the Slytherin table as she was ushered discretely up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables to the front of the Great Hall where the sorting hat was.

She was quite petite, Draco noticed, but nevertheless quite pretty also. Her dark brown hair hung in loose waves about her shoulders, just a little pinned back at the sides to keep it off her small, oval face. Her skin looked olive in the cheerful glow of the Hall and her hair shone, looking like it was threaded with amber silk in the candlelight. Her black school robes were unfastened in the front, showing the white shirt, tie, and grey skirt the girl students wore. Her uniform was loose, not too small like Pansy and some other girls thought looked good, and it draped on her frame with a certain elegance.

Headmaster Dumbledore stood up and briefly introduced her as the new student as she stood in front of the hall starting at her feet. All the first-years had been sorted, so she was the last one to go.

Draco strained his ears but couldn't hear what her name was. He heard Pansy scoff and felt a moment's irritation. And then he had to grit his teeth to not explode as she distracted him with her foot touching him in a place people didn't normally touch.

Apparently she didn't like him watching the new girl.

"… and she'll be here with us for the year. Everyone, please welcome Lacey Lupin," Dumbledore announced clapping lightly and smiling jovially. There was a scattered applause throughout the Great Hall and some cheers and whistles coming mainly from the Gryffindor table.

Lacey blanched slightly and looked at her feet, suddenly nervous and not knowing exactly where to look. She slowly walked over to the little three-legged stool and perched on the end as Professor McGonagall plunked the tattered hat over her head.

The hat was big even on her and rested over her eyes, thankfully blocking the hundreds of staring faces from view. It shifted slightly on Lacey's head and then she heard its voice in her mind.

_Interesting mind you have, missy. Very interesting indeed. _

_Interesting?_ Lacey wondered.

_I think it's clear we can expect great things from you,_ the hat responded. _Very clever mind you have. You would do well in Ravenclaw._ _And you are definitely hard-working like Hufflepuffs. But you are also brave as Gryffindors, too. _

_Brave? Me? _Lacey smirked. _I'm afraid even right now. I hate being in front of so many people like this._

_Yes, you are indeed brave. Perhaps you will realize it before the end._ The hat paused a moment before continuing. _But yet… I see you feel you need to prove yourself, and that you can be selfish at times. Cunning, maybe… But I feel you will be soon drawn to someone that may not be the best for you._

_Ohhh…kay…_ Lacey was confused.

_But in you lies a sliver of hope. Hope that everyone has believed is lost. Perhaps you will be the one to unite everyone. So I think I will put you in Gryffindor. No doubt you will have friends in enemies, but I'll put you where it's safest._

And then the Sorting hat bellowed out, "GRYFFINDOR!" Lacey's expression of puzzlement turned to a wide smile when the Gryffindor table roared with cheers, Harry, Ron, and Hermione among them. She handed the hat back to Professor McGonagall and felt like skipping to the table.

She plopped down in-between Hermione and Ginny with Harry and Ron across the table and Parvati and Lavender a little ways down. The butterflies in her stomach had finally stopped and she at once felt at home.

Dumbledore rose from his chair once more and said, "I would just like to say before dinner begins… really bad eggs!" Dumbledore chuckled with amusement before snapping his fingers once.

Food appeared before them instantly and Harry remarked before stuffing his face with mashed potatoes, "He must really like pirates." Lacey and Hermione laughed, but Ron looked bewildered.

Lacey glanced up between bites of chicken and reached for her goblet filled with pumpkin juice. She glanced around the hall before meeting a pair of staring, clear, grey eyes. The boy, Draco Malfoy, she had seen on the train, was looking at her with a faint trace of amusement around his lips.

Lacey stared back, not seeming to be able to look away, and to her amazement saw him lift his glass ever so slightly in a salute, incline his head in the smallest of nods, and take a drink. She stared for one more moment before tearing her eyes from his, an odd fluttering warmth growing in her belly.

But when she looked up again, he was looking the other way.

**A/N:** Just thought I'd update two chapters at once to get the story going. Hopefully the beginning of the story isn't too slow... I started writing this with only a general sense of direction, so you can kinda tell I'm finding my way around everything in Chs. 1 and 2. Reviews appreciated!


	3. Different Kinds of Torture

Chapter Three: Different Kinds of Torture

_Maybe it's not over yet_

… _Somewhere inside him there must be some_

_New dream awaiting to topple the rest_

_When he finds himself…_

… _Ran from the life that he hates_

_Hoping to find some new beginning_

_Abandoned the future they gave..._

_Destined to rise above all of the_

_Simplified answers they gave him…_

…_Love he could not make sense_

_Of feeling alive yet alone_

_Maybe the best he can get is_

_Simply blurred by fate_

_Yet he knows he's the champion of the planet_

_But he's told he was wrong for somehow deciding to..._

_"A.W.O.L.," Yellowcard_

Breakfast that morning was quite an eventful one for Harry. It seemed as though everyone in the entire school had either suddenly become his biggest supporter, or his worst enemy. After struggling to put his school robes on, he walked down to the Gryffindor Common room where he met up with Lacey.

"Hey," she said cheerfully. "Ron and Hermione went down already. Apparently you were too slow for them."

Harry grinned and ran and hand through his hair, attempting to flatten it a little. Lacey grabbed her bag from the table and swung it over her shoulder. "Done fixing your hair?" she asked.

"Ha, ha, ha," Harry said sarcastically before pushing the portrait door open. And right smack into someone.

"Oh! Hiya Harry!" the boy exclaimed from the floor. He picked himself up and brushed the dirt off his robes. "I've been looking all over for you."

"Oh, hullo Colin," Harry said lamely, glancing helplessly at the ceiling.

"Going down to breakfast, are you?" Colin Creevy asked. He squeezed himself between Lacey and Harry and began walking down with them. "I've been meaning to ask you," he said, "if you were planning to have the DA start up again soon. Because my sister is a first year and she's really excited to join."

"Oh, that's great." Harry smiled awkwardly. "But I dunno when it's starting up again. We'll hold a meeting and set a date."

Colin grinned wide. "Alright. I can't wait." He looked at his watch briefly. "I gotta go. I'll see you on the Quidditch pitch later. I'm trying out for the team." And then he was gone.

Lacey waited until Colin rounded the corner before she throwing Harry an amused look. But before she could say anything, someone spoke from behind them.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Potty and Werewolf Jr. Have you organized your fan club of the year already, Potty?" Harry and Lacey turned around and found themselves face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and a few menacing, skeletal-looking Slytherin sixth years.

"Come to inflict more torture already?" Harry retorted blandly.

"Is that what this is?" Malfoy said with a look of mock surprise on his face. "I thought it's what you deserve."

Lacey stared at Malfoy. Could this possibly have been the very same Draco Malfoy who had toasted her at the Sorting? "Deserve?" Lacey blurted out, unbelieving. "What's Harry done to you?"

"The mere fact he exists pains me. I'm just returning the favor," Malfoy drawled. Lacey raised her eyebrows as Harry clenched his fists in anger.

"Well, you're doing a good job of it, bastard," Harry said.

"Ooh! Little Harry Potter knows swearwords," Pansy said in a fake baby voice reminiscent of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Yeah. And I also know that all your fathers are nothing but a bunch of lowlife slaves who serve the biggest lowlife of them all," Harry shot back.

"Don't you dare say that, Potter," Malfoy warned. "You have no idea what you did."

"What? Revealing who all the Death Eaters are?"

"I said it before, and I'll say it again. You'll pay for putting my father in Azkaban."

"First off," Harry began, keeping track on his fingers, "you're father's out. It's his own damn fault he got himself fired from the ministry. Secondly, I've already paid. All those times I could have ripped your head off and didn't. Thir—"

"Shut up!" Malfoy yelled, interrupting Harry.

"What are you going to do? Curse me? You're Head Boy now. If you tainted you're reputation – not that it isn't tainted already – you can bet your father would find out. And I think he wouldn't be too happy about that, yeah?" Harry said, triumph in his eyes.

"I'd watch you're back if I were you," Pansy warned, jumping to Malfoy's defense although he didn't seem to like it. She grabbed Malfoy's hand and stalked off, the other Slytherins following behind them.

Lacey pulled her wand out of her robes and watched their retreating backs. "No," she said in a voice only loud enough for Harry and her to hear, "I'd watch yours." And with a swish and flick of her wand she murmured a series of incantations under her breath and pointed her wand straight at Pansy Parkinson.

"Oh, nice one!" Harry said as they walked into the Great Hall to have breakfast.

"Why thank you," Lacey replied. "It's always nice to hear my spells are appreciated." She sat down beside him at the Gryffindor table with a sly grin forming on her lips. "It's a pity Pansy didn't notice."

The little boy sat at the dining table reading. He was just tall enough now to touch his feet to the floor if he scooted towards the edge of the chair and really stretched his legs. He was feeling rather bored, but was afraid to look up. "Eight years old is old enough to be learning about the family business," his father had once told him. And he was afraid to tear his eyes away from the pages to take a break from studying because his father would get mad.

The little boy heard his father walk in, and by the way his steps sounded, the boy could tell his father was feeling rather irritated about something.

"Narcissa!" the father called. In an instant she was by his side, awaiting his orders. "I want a witchtini. On the rocks," he commanded.

"Yes, my love," she replied bowing her head.

"What did I tell you?" the father said, voice cold and menacing. "Never use _that_ word. Especially in front of Draco."

"Please forgive me, Lucius," Narcissa said, hurrying off at once to pour him a drink. But when she returned, her food caught on the rug and she spilled the drink in his lap. Little Draco, who had been looking at his book the whole time, suddenly looked up.

Lucius roared in anger, his irritation blossoming into a violent rage. And then he hit her. Again and again Draco saw him beat her. And then again and again he willed his tears and screams not to be released as Lucius kicked him for stopping his studying.

When Draco finally was allowed to sit up, he looked at his mother, lying on the floor unconscious.

"Study," his father snarled sitting back down at the table and picking up a newspaper. He shoved Narcissa's limp form to the side with his foot.

And Draco did, but not before promising to one day use the curse he was reading about on his father. He wanted to see his father twitch in agony as he made his mother and himself feel. Someday he would do it, he swore.

"Ron, stop! You're doing it all wrong!" Hermione said in frustration, grabbing the mortar and pestle out of his hands. "We don't need _finely powdered_ dried doxy eyes, we need _cracked_ ones for this potion."

"But that's what I was doing," he protested, knowing Hermione was right, as usual. He threw Harry and Lacey a dirty look when he heard their sniggers from the next table over.

Ron began to stir the cauldron, but was quickly stopped by Hermione once again. "You're not supposed to stir it yet," she said, sighing rather loudly.

"Well then, what the bloody hell do you want me to do?" Ron complained.

"You can measure out the toad blood," she said bossily before beginning to slice up some Mandrake.

Ron made a face behind her back, but complied. He grabbed the bottle of maroon fluid but as he began to open it, he realized he didn't have the measuring cup. "Hermione –" he began meaning to ask for her to pass him the cup, but stopped himself. She was in her own world, working on the potion.

He smiled to himself, watching her work. He liked the way she worked, the way she concentrated so hard the rest of the world disappeared, the way she hummed a tuneless song under her breath unconsciously, and the way a few locks of her thick hair would escape her ponytail and get in her eyes. He had always thought it was cute how she would always boss him around, though he would never admit it.

Ron was yanked out of his reverie by Hermione's scowling face. "Are you going to do any work, or are you just going to sit there?" she scolded. "I've been waiting for the toad blood."

"Huh?"

"Um… are you okay, Ron?" she asked him, looking at him oddly.

"What? Oh! Yea. I'm good. Right. Toad blood," Ron said in a jumble of words, hoping she hadn't noticed he had been staring at her dazed. He put some blood into the cauldron and tried to hide his blushing face.

Lacey had just taken out her _Mazes of the Mind_ textbook and set it on the desk when Harry burst into the classroom. "Am I late?" he asked her looking quite distracted.

"No," she replied. "Class doesn't start until _1:45_." Harry checked his watch and realized he still had ten minutes.

"Right. Musta read my schedule wrong." He grinned sheepishly and sat down beside her. "So…"

"So…" she began, "I heard some very interesting news."

"Really?" said Harry.

"Yup. Apparently this Slytherin… You know Pansy Parkinson, right?"

"Oh, I might have heard her name before," Harry said playing along.

"Well, apparently she's been in the hospital wing all day with some very horrible jinxes on her," Lacey said, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"Oh no!' Harry exclaimed overdramatically. "What happened?"

"This girl – I think her name is Lacey or Lucy or something – she jinxed poor Pansy really really really bad."

"What did she do?" Harry asked with mock concern.

"Pansy's face was covered in these weird mothball looking bumps that sprouted green hair, and her hair turned this puke-shade green. Someone told me she had these wings coming out of her back and that her eyebrows disappeared," Lacey told him, struggling not to laugh.

Parvati and Lavender shouted from across the room, "And her lips swelled to the size of sausages!" And then they burst into peals of laughter.

"How absolutely dreadful,' Harry said.

"I agree. It was absolutely horrible," Lacey added, laughing. Harry snorted just as Professor Dumbledore walked in.

Dumbledore strode to the front of the classroom, his dark purple and blue robes billowing about him. His pointed hat sat perched jauntily on top of his head and his half-moon spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose. He tucked his long, white beard into his belt and pushed back the sleeves of his robes as he sat down at the desk.

He peered through his glasses at the ten curious faces before him before resting his gaze on Harry. 'You may, perhaps be wondering," Dumbledore began, "why I'm sitting here instead of Professor Maebarrie." The small class of seventh years nodded their heads. The class consisted of those who were planning on having careers as Aurors or Unspeakables. Because there were so few seventh years that were considering either of those venues, all Houses were put into one class.

Dumbledore stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, leaning back against it comfortably, a pleasant smile around his eyes. "It seems, the Professor Maebarrie has gotten herself married at the ripe age of eighty-two and will not be returning to Hogwarts. As you know, this is an exclusive class not normally offered to Hogwarts students. It is challenging and meant for those who have already left school and are undergoing further training to become Aurors and Unspeakables. I do not mean to scare any of you, but Lord Voldemort is an ever-increasing threat and the safety of this school and the world is in jeopardy. The number of Death Eaters has not stopped growing since the Dark Lord rose to power a few years ago, and it does not look like there will be any slowing down of the spreading of evil.

"We are in dire need of Aurors, Unspeakables, and Medi-Wizards among other occupations, so starting this year we decided to combine school and graduate training into one year instead of the several you would normally have. Never before, not even when Voldemort was in power those many years ago, have we ever had to do this. Sixth and Seventh years will be pushed like they have never been before. This _is most definitely_ a challenging class and only the best students are in it. So naturally, I would only have the best professor teaching you this particularly difficult subject." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he drummed the pads of his fingers against the desk behind him. "Unfortunately, or fortunately, I was unable to find a suitable replacement, so—"

"Class is canceled until further notice?" a voice piped up from the back of the room. All eleven students turned abruptly to see who had spoken and seemed to agree. Dangerous times and difficult classes did not seem all that fun.

"No, Dean," Dumbledore replied good-naturedly to the friendly-looking black boy who had spoken. "Class is still on. In fact, I will be teaching it."

Harry gaped at him. Dumbledore? Teach an actual class? Harry knew that he had once been merely a professor at Hogwarts, but he was Headmaster and now organizer of the Order of the Phoenix. How could he have the time to teach a class too?

Unless… it was because of him. Ever since Dumbledore realized how dangerous the connection between Harry and Voldemort was, Harry had been learning Occulmency. Not that he was good at it or anything. He watched the headmaster pace up and down across the front of the room, talking.

"… and I think I'm going to switch around the seating arrangements," Dumbledore said. "I think alphabetical order is best. Not because I don't know all your names, but it's more orderly. And I like seeing things switched up a bit. Not with everyone sitting by the same people all the time. How boring." There was a sly twinkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes, Harry thought he saw.

There was an awful lot of shuffling and rustling and scraping of chairs against the floor and chatter as Dumbledore directed everyone to their seats. The desks were arranged in pairs and Lacey sat down at hers, hoping that she would be able to tolerate whoever was going to sit next to her for the year.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of unmistakably pale hair and heard someone plunk down in the chair beside her haughtily. She didn't even have to turn her head to see who it was.

It was Draco Malfoy.


End file.
